This was part of the previous chapter, but I split it up...

Here you are my lovelies :)

Betaed by Melpen00

Day 2

Tony - The Truth Room

Tony had to admit he was a little scared, but he had had to try. It would be worth whatever they did to him, knowing that he had at least tried to get Steve some food.

He was brought to the Truth Room and left to stand in the middle of the dingy room, a guard on both of his arms. Rubrem must have gone a different way as he was already there.

"This, Mr Stark, is the Truth Room." Mori looked around thoughtfully. "Quite possibly my favourite room in the facility."

"Thanks for the tour, now let's get on with this." The billionaire was in no mood for small talk.

The German shook his head, making a clicking noise with his tongue, "Oh no, we have to wait. We're not quite ready yet." As he was saying this the door opened, revealing a very weak-looking Captain America. As soon as Tony made eye contact he saw the fear return in Steve's eyes. However, it quickly subsided when the man seemed to realize Stark was in no way injured. He may have even looked relieved.

Steve was forced into a metal chair in the centre of the room. He noticed that Cap didn't even pull against the restraints. That meant one of two things, 1) he was too weak to try, or 2) he had already tried and failed. Tony wasn't sure which was worse.

Cap looked bad. It wasn't just the injuries, there was something else. Something in his eyes.

Rubrem moved in front of the chair's occupant. "So, Captain, today we will be having even more fun."

"Can't wait," he answered, looking annoyingly relaxed. Tony was confused, very confused. What was going on? Wasn't this supposed to be his punishment? Then the realization hit him. This was bad. This was very bad. This was very not good.

"You see," came their captor's voice, "you're friend here," he nodded to the inventor, "decided to break one of the rules."

Cap gave Stark a questioning look, to which he wasn't sure how to respond.

Rubrem continued, "He tried to steal some of my food."

"Ah, excuse me," Tony interjected, "It's not stealing if you gave it to me to begin with. And you never said I couldn't take it out of the room."

A slight smirk from Rubi made the billionaire's blood boil, "Then why did you try to hide it?"

Stark just growled. He was hating this man more and more.

"Well, Mr Stark, I believe we have decided that your crime was stealing. Now, back during the 19th century, the people of America were still shamelessly trading slaves." Tony had no idea what this had to do with anything. "During this time, there were special punishments used for certain offences. Running away, lying, stealing."

"Okay," the inventor was surprised at the calmness of his own voice.

Motioning to his guards, because boy did this man love silent signals, the two men who were not holding Tony violently ripped off Cap's shirt. The man's chest was looking better, but there was still bruising, and the ribs weren't completely healed. Tony hoped they were healing right.

"The technique I'm referring to was often known as branding," this caused Stark's head to snap the man speaking, his eyes wide with terror and his mouth gaping. Surely he hadn't heard right. There was no way they were actually going to brand Captain America.

"Now," Rubrem continued, "back then, they would often use letters signifying the crime, and it would be burnt on their face. But letters are so boring, and the face is a tad small for what I have in mind." Steve didn't even flinch. He remained remarkably stoic. But not Tony.

"You can't do that! That's, that's, that's, just ridiculous! You can't brand him for something I did. I did it, not him!"

The German laughed, "I am aware of this Mr Stark, but I felt this would be more effective."

Another man appeared, carrying some form of stick with a glowing symbol at the end. Rubrem took it and smiled. He turned to show the brand to Tony. A Hydra symbol. They were literally going to brand Captain America with a Hydra symbol. That was wrong on so many levels.

"Brands were also used as identification devices, so now it will be very clear that this captain belongs to Hydra." Giving Stark a smug look, he pressed the hot iron to Steve's chest. There was a muffled cry as skin and metal collided. Tony could smell it, the burning skin. It was horrific.

Tony wanted to do something, say something, anything. But, he couldn't. He was frozen, mouth open, eyes glued to his friend. Cap was trying to get away from the brand, trying to break free from his bonds. All to no avail.

Mori pressed harder, and not even the super soldier could resist the urge to scream. It was a sound that Tony would never forget. Ever.

Then it was over. Rubrem pulled back the iron as the melted skin popped sickeningly. He stepped back and admired his handiwork. The Hydra symbol plastered on the man's chest. Steve was sucking in air in a way that might have been called a sob. Stark wouldn't believe it though. The fact that he had caused Captain America to cry would cause an unbearable amount of guilt. He was dealing with enough as it was.

Before the soldier had time to recover from his painful ordeal, he was forced from the room, presumably back to his cell. It wasn't until after he was gone that Tony noticed the tears running down his own face. The German was now standing in front of him, brand gone to who knew where.

"See Mr Stark, there are consequences to your actions. I advise you never cross me again. Things could get even worse."

Tony didn't respond. He had nothing to say. The guilt was overwhelming.

"How old do you think the Captain is?" The question caught Tony off-guard. "You don't know, do you? Never thought to ask. Well, maybe you should. It may surprise you, and maybe it will keep you from making any more selfish mistakes, hm? Unless of course, you want to go ahead and give me the project?"

Silence.

"Very well. Guards take him back to his cell."

The uncharacteristically subdued Stark made no attempt to fight back.

~A~

The Cell

By the time Tony was back in the cell, Steve was unconscious. The inventor approached carefully, remembering the soldier's, well, soldier instincts. Looking at Rogers' chest made him absolutely sick. It was ugly. Rubrem must not have held the brand steady, as some places were worse than others. It didn't matter though; the sight of the Hydra symbol plastered on Captain America's chest would have made Tony feel bad enough, even without the hideous injury.

"It will heal." The mumble surprised Tony. Wiping away any remaining tears, he turned to the Captain's face.

"I'm, I'm sorry," was all Tony was able to muster.

Steve gave a halfhearted shrug, "It's not really your fault. You didn't know."

"But I should have! I should have expected something like this."

"It's fine Tony, really. More than likely it won't even leave a scar. I heal fast remember?" the forgiveness in Steve's face only made Tony feel more guilty. He scooted away slightly.

"I don't think they'll be coming back today," Tony said, "so you should probably sleep while you can."

"Yeah," was the quiet reply.

There was silence for several minutes, but the billionaire could tell that the super soldier wasn't asleep. Tony wasn't either, obviously. He was still thinking about that awful scene in that awful room. Then Rubrem's question came back to him. How old was Steve? He had never bothered to find out. It didn't really matter to him; he was Captain America, one hundred and some years old. That's all Tony had ever seen him as.

"Hey, uh, Steve," he finally ventured

"Hmm," was the tired reply.

Stark paused, beginning to lose his resolve, why did Mori make a big deal about it? "Um, how old are you?"

There was a short laugh, "Really Tony? Almost a century, remember?"

"No, I mean, really. How old are you?"

There was a moment of silence before the quiet answer, " Twenty-three."

Twenty three? Steven Grant Rogers, Captain America, was only twenty-three? He was barely out of his teens!

"Why do you ask?" the question brought Tony back momentarily.

"Uh, just wondering."

"Hm," the small groan was the only response.

Twenty three? Twenty-three and he had, what, been experimented on, lead armies, crashed a plane in the ocean, saved the world, fought aliens, and... been tortured due to someone else's mistakes. Oh. That was why Rubrem had made such a big deal about it. He had thought it would bother him.

And he was right, it did. 

I know that Steve is not canonically twenty-three. But this is fanfiction, let me have my fun :)

I appreciate any reviews and comments. I get almost giddily happy when I see I have a new review. Any constructive criticism welcome!

One quick question. What are you're guys feelings on Natasha/Black Widow? Because I want to start writing stuff from the non-captured members of the team (at some point, it wouldn't be for a while) and was thinking about using Nat. However, if everyone hates her, I can find someone else. Just please let me know :)

God bless,